Tonight at Noon is a story of love between American she, a product of privilege, a Smith College graduate who worked as a journalist in Europe and in New York; he, an authentic jazz master, a brilliant, eccentric, difficult artist, a scion of Watts, Los Angeles, who would become one of America's foremost composers. Charles Mingus's improbable love for Sue Graham, his unpredictable confrontations, excesses, and exaggerations, drew her into a bewildering world, one where jazz and art were magnificent obsessions -obsessions refracted through Mingus's individualistic interpretation of life itself. It was a world that was as hostile, enlightening, and baffling as any far-off country. In Tonight at Noon, Sue Graham tells the story of that world, of her tumultuous, passionate marriage, and of her personal odyssey inside and outside its confines. Here is a love story that is also an important chapter in jazz history, a portrait of a marriage that also sheds light on the inner workings of a rare and complex artist whose music still plays to packed concert halls almost twenty-five years after his death.
"Later in the day he cut his foot on some scissors in his apartment and went off to the emergency room at a nearby hospital. Before departing he left a message in block letters on the sidewalk in front of my building -- I LOVE YOU -- written in his blood."
A very powerful and deeply moving book about Sue Graham Mingus's relationship with Charles Mingus. The first 2/3 of the book includes a lot of scenes and information that can be hard to follow, but I think she was trying to fit in everything she remembered in some kind of organized fashion. The last 1/3 of the book is superbly written, beginning with Charles being diagnosed with ALS. Reading this book has allowed me to see the softer, very human side of Charles Mingus, and has left me with a huge respect and admiration for Sue Mingus. I previously had no idea how much she went through, how strong she was, and how much she has accomplished in preserving and promoting the music of Charles Mingus and jazz in general. Kudos to you, Sue. It pains me to have to return this one to the library!
A detailed (VERY detailed) account of the Minguses' relationship and (most movingly) Charles' deterioration at the hands of ALS. Many, many stunning and revealing moments that will bring jazz fans closer to the truth of a very complicated man, but I found the immense attention to minutiae got a bit in the way of the turbulent love story.
If you love Mingus and his music this biography by his wife and inspiration, presents a unique perspective on the man. Mingus was to say the least a complicated man. Sue Mingus details her life with Mingus warts and all, from their first meeting, to his ashes being spread on the river Ganges by Sue.
Evocative of a time when the clubs were poppin' with jazz. This captures an era and tells how Sue and Charles fell in love. She supported him in so many ways, and propped him up when the going was rough at his low times.
This was so wild bc why did it end like that?????? I mean that’s not the reason it’s wild—it’s wild because it’s a book about the interpersonal life of Charles Mingus. One where the facts are not insanely distorted, like his autobio beneath the underdog. Great read. She’s a blunt writer. Maybe more of a blunt journaler/ist. But her recount of the scene at the White House….shattering.
a memoir, rather than a portrait, and focused primarily on the period of illness, death, and Sue M's voyage to India to scatter the ashes. mingus's crazy interjections into the reminiscences, the musician's life emerging tantalisingly in the epilogue, and that Sue is clearly an unusually free-spirited, passionate woman, make one wish for something a bit more substantial and exhaustive but it is a fascinating, heartfelt glimpse.
It must've been a hard task to write about Charles Mingus even if it is by someone who was closest to him. Probably the only way to get the low down scoop would've been by his hand only. He was a very private person. Still, it was an interesting read.